


And then there's just you

by MoonlightShines (Thatkillervibe)



Category: Stargirl (TV 2020)
Genre: Character Study, Family, Gen, JSA - Freeform, New Justice Society of America
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkillervibe/pseuds/MoonlightShines
Summary: Blue Valley was not always Beth’s city. Not always her town. That off-gray moving truck stuck with her, long after it was gone.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 6





	And then there's just you

  
  


Beneath her feet is the carpet. Rolled over the wooden flooring from the first day after the move. Blue Valley was not always Beth’s city. Not always her town. That off-gray moving truck stuck with her, long after it was gone. 

There was no one for Beth to miss then. It was easy. Far easier than it should be, for a girl of seven with a mind of ten. One day, she had a locker and a desk. Next, she was gone. Gentle care into many packed boxes. Half memories. Ripped sheets of paper from used spiral notebooks. Homework, corrected, with shiny stickers littered at the corners and loopy teacher handwriting for _Well Done._

Sturdy ticket stubs from movies at the theatre, which she watched alone. The money in her jeans from Gap burned a hole in her pocket. Her hand rested over it, careful. Like the other bodies in the mall had X-Ray vision and could see the three twenties there. Her dad worked a lot, but he enjoyed it then. Her mom was always at work. Long shifts, miserable hours that sloughed on in big city ER madness. Always in the hospital, so those twenties were tucked into her pocket on Saturday and Sundays, in the mall for her to watch those movies to pass the time, alone too. 

Then the tempting blue skies and golden sun glare, the sleepy town and natural green and space and lull in between morning and noon, the pull of Blue Valley drew the Chapels in like the flowers to bees. 

Time opened up, suddenly. Hours and minutes Beth didn’t think possible. No more overtime or reheating dinners from the fridge before putting herself to bed. Her dad sat at the table for meals and only changed in and out of his pressed suits before or after them. All of the words. All of the thoughts that raced through her head. The feelings that knocked around in the vital space next to her organs, like her lungs and heart. What had stayed quiet and concealed and observed and kept inside for so long spilled out and was said. 

She never stopped talking since then. Wouldn’t stop talking, since then. Even if she could.

Maybe that’s how she lost their interest. 

A limit of things she could say, tallied and unspoken, breached once or twice. Likely fifty times over. 

And every time her lips part to take a breath, she wonders if the hold of her father’s back, or the rigid way her mother clenches her fork signals their bracing to feign going along with whatever she’s to say. 

Now, eyes meet through the glass reflection and she shifts, the vacuumed carpet beneath her feet. Her hand hovers above her head, right over her hair. The tiny coils, collected together so tightly, they blended together, fluffy black and thick, in need of a pick comb. The breath is taken in, sharp but necessary. 

She has her mother’s hair and her eyes. Her father’s chin and face and height and they are with her, even when they’re not. 

Beth isn’t sure if the rest know yet. 

She thinks of Yolanda, sitting at her own vanity. Delicate fingers before a shower, unbraiding quietly, pretty face creased with concentration, and then the black waves falling down her shoulders, brushed and cared for. 

She thinks of Rick, who spends his time avoiding how he looks. Haunted by his resemblance of the photographs he has left of his parents. Beth thinks of his smile and the rare way he shares it. He probably should’ve been the first hint. The way those cuts and bruises cleared like a miracle solution barely a week after. 

Courtney, maybe has an inkling. She should, Beth thinks. If she asks enough questions. Pat and Justin are too curious to make it not evident. Courtney will find out soon.

But somehow, Beth feels the weight of this won’t matter as much. Not for them. Won’t sit as heavy. 

The way Chuck explained it, like that moving truck, Beth knows will stick forever too. 

Dr. Midnite’s wisdom and the ancient, oldness of the relics. Ambiguous origins of the staff, the mythic sword. A ‘66 Mustang. The timeless hourglass. Yolanda’s helmet, concave and sturdy, made for war. 

She’ll always have her mother’s eyes and her hair but she won’t get her wrinkles. 

Beth blinks and the mirror blinks back. 

And there’s just her.

**Author's Note:**

> The Justice Society of America existed for a long time. 
> 
> The New Justice Society of America will too.


End file.
